


A Father's Love

by Ms_Adequate



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Abduction, Angst, Feels, Parental - Freeform, Templars, The Circle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 21:23:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9403316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Adequate/pseuds/Ms_Adequate
Summary: A young boy discovers his magical abilities, and learns what his parents think of it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Knack for Healing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9402854) by [pikestaff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikestaff/pseuds/pikestaff). 



He was a young boy, with a glowing smile, golden hair and the most beautiful eyes anyone in the village had ever seen. And somehow, when he was around, his cheer seemed to spread. Aches were eased, joints were loosened, just a little, not so much that people suspected, but enough to make it pleasant to be around him. It would have been easy to like the lad without that though, he was witty and cheeky and always leading the other kids in some plot to find the mabari puppies that were rumored to have been born in Old Cratchley’s barn, or find the witch who definitely lives in the forest, or see the dead darkspawn that’s absolutely in a cave guys, come on let’s go see!

When he was twelve, he burned down the barn. His parents came sprinting from the house in a panic, relieved to see him safe, then shocked by the tiny flames that still flared from his palms. He looked at his hands like they were monsters from below the Deep Roads, but his mother knelt and hugged him, and told him it would be okay, and dried his tears. They took him into the house, fed him, and tucked him into bed.

He woke that night to the quiet sounds of his parents talking and padded on soft feet to listen. They were in the main room, calming themselves with tea.

“It’s like we thought.” His mother’s voice.

“Yes.” His father said.

“I’d hoped it was just the way he made everyone feel better…” She trailed off.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Father said, firmly. “We know what the Chantry says.”

“You can’t mean…”

“No!” He hissed, “Not that, never! He’s our son! I’ll die before he goes to a Circle.”

“So would I!” Mother declared. “But how will we—” The boy couldn’t hear the rest of what she said.

“We’ll find a way. The barn’s just a barn. We can get by.”

“How can we teach him though? We know nothing about…” she paused, then whispered, “magic.”

“No we don’t. But we know our son, don’t we? We know he’s good and kind and eager to help. Does he need more than that?”

“What about that woman in the forest?”

“The witch?” Father asked, surprised. Normally he railed against this woman when they saw her on her rare trips to buy some supplies, but now he sounded much more neutral. “Okay. We’ll rebuild the barn. We’ll just say the boy knocked over a lantern by accident, and if you cook up some stew and a couple of pies to keep the lads fed, we won’t have trouble getting help. Lost what was in there, but we’ll get by. We’ll keep the boy safe. And in a week or two, I’ll head into the forest and see if I can find this woman.”

“Might come to nothing.” Mother said, “But maybe she does have knowledge.”

“Might not.” Father agreed, “But if not, we’ll try something else. And then try something else.”

“I hope she does. But I’ll do anything for him. He’s _good_.” Mother said, emphasizing all she believed about her son with that single word.

“So will I.” Father said, “If it comes to it we’ll take him to Tevinter and I’ll be one of their damned slaves, if it keeps him safe.”

“Don’t say that. It won’t come to that.” Mother said. Then the cat walked up to the boy, still crouched in the hallway, and meowed for attention. Both parents turned. They heard him! He thought he was in trouble, but as Father walked towards him, opened the door, he saw them look with smiles on him—

And woke up with a start. He looked around. No mother. No father. Just the snoring of the other children here in the Circle, in their bunks.

He sobbed into the only possession he had of home, a small pillow his mother had sewn months earlier, and pressed into his hands when the Templars came. _Why couldn’t you have helped me, father?_ He begged silently.

**Author's Note:**

> If you thought only Pikestaff could make Anders feel parental feels, you thought wrong.


End file.
